


Special Delivery

by enigmaticblue



Series: Cast Me Not Away [5]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy sends Spike to Sunnydale on a small errand. Only, it's never that simple. This is set in my CMNA-verse, and takes place shortly before the epilogue. If you haven't read that one, this one will make no sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Delivery

**May 2006**

 

“I just don’t think this is a good idea, luv,” Spike protested. “Don’t mind helpin’ Red out, but you’re so close.”

 

Buffy smiled, unperturbed. “I’ll be fine. If I happen to go into labor early, I’ll give you a call.”

 

“Take me hours to get back down here,” Spike said plaintively. “What if it happens in the middle of the day?”

 

“You’ll get back here as fast as you can.” Buffy sighed, tired of the discussion. “Spike, you know that those spell ingredients Wesley located aren’t something you can just put in the mail. And we both trust you.”

 

Buffy had said the magic words, and she could see him folding. There were only two phrases she needed to know when dealing with Spike: “I love you” and “I trust you.” Either or both of them together could ensure the vampire’s cooperation in doing pretty much anything.

 

“Still don’t see why Wes can’t do this by himself,” her boyfriend said, not quite ready to give in. “He’s a big boy.”

 

Buffy fixed him with a look. “For the last time, Spike. Wesley wants you to go with him because you know Willow better than he does. That, and Faith is going to be in town. You’re his back up. Be nice about it.”

 

Spike knew when to cut his losses. “Fine, luv. But I’m not happy ‘bout leavin’ you.”

 

“I never would have guessed,” Buffy replied drily. She heard the doorbell. “That’s your ride. Have a nice time, sweetheart.”

 

~~~~~

 

The drive to Sunnydale was uneventful. They took Wesley’s SUV because the tinted windows allowed for daytime travel if necessary. The plan was to meet Willow at the Magic Box (which she and the coven had taken over recently) and drop off the supplies. Willow had asked the ex-Watcher to lend his expertise on several pending projects as well, which added together might take a couple of days.

 

Spike could be excused for being cranky, since he would be basically hanging around, doing nothing, until Wesley was ready to leave. He particularly hated being away from Buffy for even a few hours at a time when she was so close to her due date.

 

All this explained why Spike was in such a foul mood when he walked through the door of the Magic Box, and found himself suspended upside down in midair. “What the bloody hell—”

 

Wesley was of no help. Spike could hear his friend behind him, laughing like a sodding loon. Willow came rushing out of the back room immediately, gushing apologies. “I’m sorry, Spike. The coven is working on protection spells for the shop, and we forgot to disengage them for you.”

 

Spike managed to brace himself for the fall as Willow murmured the words that would release him. Unfortunately, his landing was not cat-like, and it caused another stream of curses to erupt from his lips. Wesley was still laughing behind him, and Spike turned to snarl at his friend as he picked himself off the floor. “Yeah, go ahead an’ laugh. We’ll see if I help you next time you find yourself hangin’.”

 

The ex-Watcher tried to straighten out his features, but his chuckles were still audible. “I’m sorry, Spike. It’s just—your face.” And there was the laughter again.

 

Spike turned his gaze back on Willow, who—to her credit—was looking quite apologetic. “I really am sorry, Spike. Although,” she hesitated slightly, “we weren’t actually sure it would work, so it’s nice to know.”

 

Spike growled half-heartedly. “I ought to rip your bloody throat out, witch. If I wasn’t still on a diet—”

 

Whatever he might have said was cut off by a figure hurtling into him, slamming him back onto the floor. It would have knocked the wind out of him, if he’d had any wind. Spike found himself flat on his back, his waist straddled by a young woman holding a stake, ready to pierce his heart. Wesley was no longer laughing at this point, and he could hear Willow cry out, “Faith! No!”

 

So this was Faith, then. Spike thought she’d be taller.

 

The stake was still hovering, point down, all to close for comfort. Spike stayed still, waiting to see what the woman would do. He was certainly in no position to put up a fight. Although, if her attention wavered for even a moment—

 

Faith frowned at him. “You changed your hair.”

 

Spike blinked, nonplussed by the comment. “Uh, don’t think we’ve met, Slayer. Feel sure that I would remember you.”

 

As if suddenly realizing she was still sitting on him, Faith tucked the stake back into her leather jacket and arose. For a moment, Spike was uncomfortably aware of the fact that had he not been so attached to Buffy, Faith would be an attractive alternative.

 

Faith’s smirk, and the slow way she got up, told him she was all too aware of that fact. “Here,” she said, holding out a hand to pull him up.

 

Spike accepted the help, rising as gracefully as he could and pretending not to hear the sighs of relief from Wesley and Willow. He barely hid a snort. As if he couldn’t take care of himself. “Nice to see you again, Spike.” Faith’s eyes traveled over to Wesley. “Wes.”

 

“Faith.” The ex-Watcher’s tone was carefully even, and Spike recognized the brittle quality. He sighed. There would be more drama before the week was out, of that he was certain. He just hoped that this disastrous beginning didn’t bode ill for their endeavors.

 

After all, Spike had a Slayer to get back to, and Nika would be sure to kill him if anything happened to Wesley.

 

Willow bustled forward into the silence, a little of the girl she had been peeking out. “Hey, why don’t we get those supplies put away, and then we can head back to the house. I’ll bet you guys are exhausted.”

 

Spike followed obediently, but cast a questioning look back at Faith, who raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. It was strange, but he could have sworn he’d seen that expression before, even though Spike knew they had never met.

 

Like he’d said, he would have remembered her.

 

~~~~~

 

“So what’s up with you an’ Faith?” Spike asked Wesley later. Willow had bought a house recently, so they were staying in her guest room. For all their closeness, Spike couldn’t remember sharing quarters with Wesley before. It was decidedly odd.

 

There was no answer, but Spike knew the other man wasn’t asleep, just by the sound of his breathing and his heartbeat. “Wesley?”

 

There was a long sigh, and then Wesley replied, “This is hardly the time to go into the tale of my past failures, Spike. I’m trying to sleep.”

 

“Yeah, an’ you’re not,” was the quick retort. “You’ve been tossin’ and turnin’ for the last hour, an’ you’re keepin’ me up.”

 

For a moment Spike thought his friend was going to ignore him, but then there was the sound of shifting, and the bedside lamp came on, casting its dim illumination around the room. “What do you want to know?”

 

“What do you want to tell me?” the vampire countered. “Way you sounded, with Faith…”

 

Wesley sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Just another one of my screw-ups. I was Faith’s Watcher at one point.”

 

Spike had heard bits of the story from Buffy, and from the others. Not much though. Not enough. All he knew was that there was a Slayer who’d gone rogue, she’d body-switched with Buffy, and Wesley had once been her Watcher. It didn’t explain the tension in every line of Wesley’s frame. “So?”

 

“So?” Wesley repeated. “What do you mean?”

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you the bloke always tellin’ me I make my own choices, my own path? Seems like the same should apply to a Slayer. You weren’t the one that sent her barrellin’ down the road of self-destruction.”

 

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps not, but I didn’t do much to keep her from it, either.”

 

“Oh, bollocks,” Spike replied rudely. “You were a git, mate. I’ve gotten that much from you. So what? So were we all at one point. Girl seems to have pulled out of it. She’s fightin’the good fight now, an’ maybe it had to happen the way that it did.”

 

Spike watched as Wesley rubbed absently at a scar on his arm. “Sometimes forgiving someone else is just as difficult as forgiving yourself,” he said softly.

 

“Don’t get all broody on me, Wesley,” Spike warned. “Have enough of that from my pillock of a grandsire.” The warning startled a bit of a smile out of the other man, and Spike returned it. “Get some sleep,” he suggested. “You’ve got a bit of work ahead of you tomorrow, yeah? An’ Red’ll be sure to keep you on your toes.”

 

Wesley nodded, reaching over to flip the light back off. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Had you met Faith before?”

 

“Don’t think so,” the vampire replied, thinking of the flash of déjà vu that had hit when he’d seen her smirk. “Can’t remember having done so.”

 

But the thought worried at him, even as he listened to Wesley’s breathing slow and even out.

 

~~~~~

 

When Spike finally wandered out of the guest bedroom, it was late in the afternoon, and Wesley was nowhere to be seen. He found Willow in the kitchen, puttering with something. “Hey, Spike,” she greeted him. “Hungry?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head absently. He sat down at the kitchen table, a little bemused as he watched her heat up a mug of blood for him. “I can do that,” Spike pointed out.

 

Willow flashed him a bright smile. “I know, but you’re a guest.”

 

It still surprised him—how much words like that meant, especially from one of Buffy’s friends. Spike had honestly never thought to be here, with any of the Scoobies, being treated as a guest and, perhaps more importantly, as a man. “Ta,” he said, and then, remembering, Spike began hesitantly. “Never got to tell you this, but I was sorry ‘bout Tara. She was a good one.”

 

There was a flash of pain across her features, and then Willow gave him a soft, faraway smile. “She was. Thank you, Spike. It’s still hard sometimes,” she admitted. “Sometimes I have to wonder if I’m the only one who remembers her.”

 

“Not the only one,” Spike assured her. “But, I think sometimes people are afraid to talk about the dead, for fear they’ll upset a person.”

 

Willow looked over at him. “When did you get so perceptive?”

 

“’ve always been perceptive,” Spike replied, half in jest, half seriously. “’s just you lot never paid any attention.”

 

“No, I guess we really didn’t,” Willow said thoughtfully.

 

Spike decided things had gotten way too serious and quickly changed the subject. “Where’s Wesley?”

 

“Oh, I sent him off with Adrienne,” she replied, and Spike could just catch the barest hint of a blush.

 

He gave her a sly grin. “Adrienne, huh? That the new one?”

 

“New what?” she replied innocently, but her deepening blush gave her away.

 

Spike’s grin got positively evil. “So that’s what’s been keepin’ you too busy to come to L.A. recently. An’ here Buffy was thinkin’ you didn’t approve of our relationship, or were upset with her or somethin’.”

 

“What?” Willow sputtered. “I never—I’ve never said anything! And I called! I’ve been—” She stopped herself, and her eyes narrowed. “You’re teasing,” she accused. “Buffy is not feeling neglected.”

 

“No,” Spike admitted cheerfully. “’sides, we both thought you might have a new bird on the line.”

 

Willow frowned. “How on earth could either of you tell?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Buffy could, an’ she told me. Woman’s intuition, I s’pose. I was told to get information an’ bring it back on pain of dusting.”

 

Willow glared at him. “You were still teasing.”

 

“Evil vampire here,” Spike reminded her, looking not at all apologetic.

 

Willow’s face changed. “No, you really aren’t.”

 

He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. “Huh?”

 

“You’re not evil, Spike,” Willow gently corrected, placing her hand over his on the table. “You haven’t been for a long time now.” Looking into her eyes, Spike could see no hint of the giggling girl she had been, or the strung out witch she had later become. “I wish we could have seen it sooner,” she commented thoughtfully. “Things might have been different.”

 

Spike smiled ruefully. “Wouldn’t have had it different, Red.”

 

“No,” she agreed. “I suppose it did work out for the best in the end.”

 

He looked away from her gaze, looking down at her hand over his. “Willow?”

 

Spike so rarely used her name that it caused both her eyebrows to go straight up. “Yeah, Spike?”

 

“You’re still lookin’ biteable.”

 

A slow smile spread across her face, and then she started laughing, remembering the night that he had come to her room so long ago. Oddly enough, as scary as things had been, Spike had made her feel better. And now that the fear had been greatly dimmed by time, Willow could finally see the humor in a chipped vampire giving and seeking reassurance about his performance, and her attractiveness as a meal.

 

Spike was grinning like a little boy who’d just shared some particularly good joke, and Willow stood, placing a sisterly kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Spike.”

 

“Anytime, Red.”

 

Spike was beginning to think this might not be such a bad trip after all.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley bent his head over the text, making out the fine print with difficulty. He glanced up gratefully as Adrienne put a cup of tea at his hand. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” she replied. “How’s it going?”

 

“Slow,” Wesley admitted, “but I think I know enough to start on a translation now. It will be a couple of days.”

 

Adrienne smiled. “If you can figure out that spell, you’ll be a hero. We’ve been trading remedies with a coven in South America, and they’ve been overrun with Nif demons. They just don’t have the kind of language resources that Willow does.”

 

Wesley could feel his ears turning pink. “Thank you. It’s really nothing, you know.”

 

“Oh, it’s something.” This time it wasn’t Adrienne who spoke, but another. Wesley could feel his skin prickling, and the tension seeping into his bones that had nothing to do with being hunched over a text all morning and afternoon.

 

Cognitively, Wesley knew that Faith had reformed, that she wasn’t there to harm him. He still had scars, however, and there was still the occasional nightmare involving a dark-haired girl and shards of glass. “How’s it going, Wes?”

 

He forced himself to turn and face her (not his most painful failure, but close). “Good. And how are you, Faith?”

 

Courtesy was a shield as much as anything else was. Right now, it was the only protection Wesley had, as Spike was still at Willow’s and Adrienne was making a graceful exit, sensing the tension she had no way of understanding. “Not too bad,” Faith replied, swinging a chair around to sit backwards. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Congratulations?” Wesley asked carefully.

 

“On your wedding? I heard you were tying the knot.”

 

“Oh, yes,” he replied, a smile coming to his face unbidden as it always did when thinking of Nika.

 

Faith nodded, as though satisfied. “That’s good. I mean, I’m happy for you. You look good, like you’re doing good.”

 

“I am,” Wesley said, relaxing slightly. He took a moment to study the woman in front of him. She reminded him of Spike—or of Spike as he had been when they had first met. Still struggling, still longing for a place. It was Faith as he had perceived her before she nearly tortured him to death, and now he could see it again. Wesley supposed he was seeing Faith as she might be, somewhere down the road, and he found it oddly reassuring. “You as well.” He frowned slightly, his curiosity eating at him. “Can I ask you something?”

 

Faith considered the question, then shrugged. “Sure. What’s that?”

 

“How do you know Spike?” Wesley asked. “You made that comment about his changing his hair.”

 

He could have sworn Faith blushed. “Uh, yeah, that. Well—”

 

“Yeah, I’d like to hear this explanation too,” Spike said, swaggering into the shop, Willow close behind him. Wesley could tell that the vampire was in fine good humor, and he wondered what had changed in a few hours time.

 

Faith hesitated, and then sighed, deciding that it might be a good idea to put all her cards on the table. Of course, if Buffy ever found out, she would be toast. “Remember when I switched bodies with B?”

 

Spike frowned, and then his eyes widened. “You—Bloody hell.”

 

“Pretty much,” the Slayer agreed.

 

Wesley frowned. “I still don’t understand.”

 

“Was a while back,” Spike said. “Maybe five years?” At Faith’s nod, the vampire continued. “Buffy comes up to me in the Bronze one night, an’ says—What did you say, pet?”

 

“Uh,” Faith hesitated, and then admitted. “I think I said I’d ride you at a gallop until your eyes rolled up, and that I could squeeze you till you popped like warm champagne Something like that.”

 

Spike grinned. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Never could quite figure that out. In those days, Buffy wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

 

Wesley’s face wore a matching grin. “If Buffy ever finds out, she’ll—how does Dawn put it?—flip?”

 

“Which is why I would appreciate no one saying anything,” Faith said. Suddenly, she grinned too. “Though, you should have seen Spike’s face. It was priceless.”

 

There is healing in shared laughter. Both Faith and Wesley came to an understanding that day, even though nothing had really been said.

 

~~~~~

 

It took Wesley two days to translate the text, and while both men were more than ready to return home, there was still a bittersweet nature to their goodbyes. “It was good to see you again, Faith,” the ex-Watcher said, shaking her hand, still a bit surprised at his own sincerity.

 

“Yeah, same here,” Faith replied awkwardly. “Look, Wes, I know I’ve never said anything, but I’m sorry. About the torture, you know? I know it’s not good enough, but—”

 

Wesley shook his head, ending her fumbling apology. A few years ago he might have been able to hold a grudge, but, well, glass houses and throwing stones came to mind. “It’s fine, Faith. Over and done for a while.” Wesley even managed a smile for her. “Come see us if you’re ever in L.A.,” he invited, not knowing if she’d take him up on his offer or not. Not quite knowing if he wanted her to.

 

“I might just do that,” Faith replied, looking over at Willow and Spike, who had their heads together. “The coven’s got this Hellmouth pretty much covered, though, so it looks like I won’t be in town too much longer.”

 

Wesley had expected it, but it was strange to know that he probably would not see the dark-haired Slayer again. There was definitely regret there, as they might have done so much better by one another. “Take care of yourself.”

 

“You too.”

 

Wesley wandered over to Willow and Spike, who were chatting animatedly. “So you comin’ this summer?” he asked. “An’ bringin’ Adrienne with you?”

 

“I think I can definitely do that.” Willow smiled, and then blushed, looking for a moment like the girl Wesley had once known. “I want Buffy and Dawn to meet her.”

 

“She’s nice,” was Spike’s opinion. “She’ll do right by you.”

 

“Thanks.” Willow gave both of them a hug. “You guys take care of yourselves,” she commanded. “Otherwise I’ll have to come to L.A., and you don’t want to see me angry.”

 

Spike grinned. “You’re right scary when angry, Red,” he agreed.

 

There were final goodbyes, and then they began the drive back to L.A. “You okay?” Spike asked. “The other day—”

 

“I’m fine,” Wesley replied, and at Spike’s raised eyebrow, said more forcefully. “Quite fine. Faith and I—came to an understanding.”

 

“That’s good,” Spike said. “Willow an’ me, too. Turns out at least one of Buffy’s friends is decent.”

 

Their eyes met, and the two men shared a brief, commiserating glance, remembering the scene only a month or two before. “Have their been any changes?” Wesley asked. “Is Xander—”

 

“Still bein’ a pillock?” Spike asked softly. “Yeah. They’ll talk, an’ Buffy will get upset. She hasn’t changed her mind yet, though, an’ that’s something. Wish for her sake they’ll patch it up soon.”

 

“Indeed,” Wesley murmured. “They say time heals.”

 

Spike nodded thoughtfully, agreeing. But he knew, as did Wesley, that time sometimes sent people on very different paths.

 

Of course, then again, sometimes it brought them right back together.


End file.
